Validity of Singlehood

Yet another sleepless night due to jet-lag for me.

Not having my Mon/Wed classes anymore is seriously screwing yours truly over. So, I’m not lacking in sleep and in fact, I’ve never slept MORE in this unsuccessful effort to get myself onto the right cycle (as if there’s one for college students?!).

I’ll be depending on some real strong black coffee to save my sanity today because I have a full day of classes AND the trio (Kath & Vy) plans on going to see Enchanted tonight. Hope I make it, I’m a big Disney fan. If not through sheer will, the prospect of melting into heaps over Patrick Dempsey's twinkling eyes ought to guarantee it.

In the meantime, let’s talk vacation.

Coming back from break, I feel different—

Sort of like how you don’t see any physical change in yourself because you look into the mirror every day and it’s the same face staring back atcha. Often for me, it’ll take photos from a year or two ago to fully realize how all the minor changes added up…and changed ME.

But this time, I’m not talking about looking but feeling different.

I think this family trip to the other side of the world made me realize that a part of me had been unhappy not just from nursing a broken heart, but also because I wasn’t quite comfortable with being single again.

It’s hard for me to admit that. And, to be completely honest, I can probably only admit it now because I am A-OK with it.

Well, no…as I was “okay” with it these past 7 months or so. It’s more that I’m finally happy for it.

YES, there’s a difference.

Has to be. Because like I said, I feel different and I think it has something to do with this undone knot that had been twisting itself sore in my heart. The realization came from an epiphany that all the bewilderment I’m causing my relatives at being single doesn’t annoy me or embarrass me in the least.

It amuses me!

And if truth be told, I even think I’m some kind of flattered...


1. The first relative to ask about my love life over Thanksgiving break: my dearest grandaunt. The lady’s a hardcore Buddhist and loves me like one of her granddaughters (actually, her decided preference for me makes it hard to be truly close to her real granddaughters, my cousins).

Always a ripe straight-shooter, she pulled me aside one morning to ask, “Do you have a boyfriend yet?”

My sheepish smile turns into an indulgent grin as she gives her head a quick shake and makes a really cute series of clucking disapproval.

“Don’t worry, Ah-Ma,” I call her the Taiwanese version of grandmother because growing up that’s what I heard my cousins calling her and it stuck always felt right to continue to do so, “When I do have a boyfriend, I’ll take him back to see you. For you to see how great he is, okay?”

She responds with some more disapproving clucks before finally giving in to my smiles.

2. The second to ask was my favorite uncle. Even after all these years, I still can’t get over the fact that everyday people of Taiwan will know his name and recognize him on the streets of Taipei.

“Soo, Joanne. Do you have a boyfriend?” It’s a question he always asks every time I see him.

“Nope.” And, it’s the same answer he always gets.

“Now, are you just saying that because your parents are sitting here?”

I laugh at the way he’s grinning at me. “There really isn’t a boyfriend in the picture.”

He proceeds to give me a look saying that he thinks I’m lying before changing the topic.

3. Third (and last, I lucked out because I didn’t get to see my 4th/3rd/2nd aunts this time) were my godmothers. Yes, my sister and I have 2. They are my mom’s college friends and they’re friggin’ hilarious.

“No boyfriend?”

“No.”

“No? Really?!” She exclaims as I chuckle over my bowl of really good Japanese rice.

I nod and offer a half-shrug.

“Or is it because kids these days have different definitions for boyfriends? You might not think so, but it might mean boyfriend to us.”

My mind briefly flashes with an image of my former lover.

At this point, my mom interjects the conversation, “Joanne won’t bring a guy home until it’s time to go to the altar.” She purses her lips while giving me a meaningful look of displeasure, “When she should BEFORE then to let her wiser parents take a look at him. She’s so protective! It’s not like I would chew the boy to shreds.”

Raising an amused right eyebrow, I call her out, “Oh, mom. You know you so would!”

She picks up her chopsticks to continue eating, “Well, only if he deserved it and couldn’t hold his own. If he was a good boy, there isn't anything to worry about, is there?”

I laugh.

She makes a valid point.

GAHHHH.

1. Jet-lag is such a bitch. Couldn’t fall asleep at all Monday night. Made it through classes, an exam, and then crashed at 4 PM. Unsurprisingly, I woke up at 4 AM and had so much friggin’ energy! Cripes, I got myself onto the weirdest cycle.


2. I had an IM waiting from Vy when I opened my laptop: “someone wants to greet you when you wake up:” …hot damn. Incoherent gushing may have occurred.


3. Everyone’s either sleeping or studying, so you know what that means?

Story time.

I got shoes over break!
I chose shiny black pumps!
And suede brown boots!

Okay, so that’s not really a travel story per se (they will come later and eventually) and much more like a series of gushing proclamations.

But for this girl, that’s kind of a BIG deal because (for once!) it’s NOT tennis shoes or super-cute, comfy walking shoes… I mean, as much as I love those.

Growing up, I burned through my tennis shoes every year (think basketball). Literally created holes, the bottom peeling off…wasn’t pretty and it drove my mom nuts: "I thought I was raising a girl?!”

It’s gotten better, though, since I realized that they last longer when I’ve several different pairs to rotate between.

It took much of my later teens to get used to wearing heels (I already felt so tall, you see, and had yet to learn how to be fully comfortable in one's own skin). For the longest time, I just owned a pair of practical strappy 2” black ones. Several years later, I graduated to 3” dark-brown leather ankle boots. Then, somewhere along the way, I started really appreciating my height and began (dare I say it?)… liking heels!

And now?

I love having the options, and it's one less silly self-imposed constraint! Got no problem rocking out in 4” heels, if so desired.

Well, except when a gal forgets that she hasn’t worn a pair of heels in well over 7 months, and so a smarter gal wouldn’t have spent entire days voluntarily vainly choosing to walk around Taipei in her new 3” brown suede boots (mid-calf to knee high, oh but they looked so good!).

Seriously, how do other women manage it?! My feet punished me in spades.

Ah, the price of vanity—a lesson which can’t ever be over re-learned.

Guess Who

Thanksgiving was a relief (though at times, tantalizing close to torturous).

A bittersweet symphony of outrageously fun laughter and occasionally not-so-friendly bantering. Family can be such a big ol’ mess with all the vibrancies of raw love.

I had a good time, but as with all vacation-traveling, it was tiring.

After the 14-hr flight from Tokyo (coming back isn’t as bad because following the flight from Taipei, Taiwan, we stayed in Narita, Japan one night before heading back to the States), the family and I arrived home Saturday morning at around 11:30 AM.

...and, uh, I slept until 4 AM the next day.

Tis a naïve hope, I know, to overcome the time-switch from Asia in 1 day, but I’ll try regardless (as I futilely do every year). And so, yours truly is ambitiously attempting to get her lazy, jet-lagged bum to ALL 3 of the yoga classes offered today, a feat yet to be conquered this semester...



11 days away yields a TON of stories to share and to fondly reflect back on. With everything so recent and so very much at once, it’s hard to know where to even begin.

“The world is like a book: if you’ve only lived in one place, you’ve only read one page of that book,” as my dad likes to say.

His dream/tentative future plan is to retire in 5-10 years, take my mom (and lesser-paying temporary positions) to live in various countries for anywhere from 3 to 6+ months. Although, I’m trying to figure out how our past and recent family visits to other countries fits into this whole book analogy of his.

I suppose traveling could be like the teaser on the back or the inside flap of a book. Sure you'll get the gist of it, but none of the richer details?

Could that be one of the reasons why we always go back to the same countries over and over again...because one visit left us hungering for more?

Oh, and hungering is quite the fitting word for my family.

You know that motto WORK HARD, PLAY HARD?

We add a third: EAT.

Just one of the reasons I ought not skip going to the gym this week!!!

Up, Up, and Away!

Damn, it’s almost noon.

I need to:

1. Pack my bags (yes, still)

2. Do laundry bring it home

3.Clear the fridge

(jeez, seriously have got to stop doing things the day of)

4.Resist the urge to help out the Judicial Office

5.Resist the urge to pack my textbooks and work…

Because break for me is exactly that.

No cell phone, email, or laptop. I go on a social hiatus, flip the switch and my number one priority and focus is my family.

Okay, not that they aren’t always numero uno.

But when I’m away at school, student life becomes this greedy attention-whore. It’s why my mom has to pull a preemptive strike to make sure I visit on weekends (by the way, I totally aced my Mom’s Ritual Health Inspection…well, except the whole eating-meat-5x-a-week thing).

I tried to explain to her that the number isn’t really as bad as it seemed because the actual amount each time isn’t a lot and that when I occasionally make dinner with Vy, we’ll use organic chicken. She still looked aghast, though.

Well, I’ve been busy getting work done early (gasp, the inherent procrastinator?!) because I don’t like dealing with the guilt of having unfinished work looming over my head when I’m with my family or when trying to enjoy my full-body massages.

Speaking of which, last week I realized that it’s been over 6 months since someone (other than me) has touched my legs. Holy shit, the dry Virginia winter air wreaks vicious havoc on careless bums who don’t lotion their bodies after showers.

And oh boy, this is going to sound borderline hypocritical of me…but when I don’t have Someone of Interest to me, I get lazy and instead of moisturizing my skin every day, it becomes every 2-3 days (read: basically when my skin screams back at me in vindictive mutiny). Likewise (for partly the same reason for my haphazard use of body lotion), these days I’m also more likely to be seen wearing The Uniform of hoodie, jeans, and tennis shoes. There’s this really sweet German grad student whom I worked with last year, and she said how much she liked my style. How unique it is...

...uh, sadly...this year, the past few times I've ran into her on-campus I’ve been wearing The Uniform. What’s more embarrassing is that for each of those times, I happened to wearing the exact same Maroon hoodie.

Cringes.

Anyhow. I need to finish some work (so that I’m not tempted to bring it along) and start throwing in dirty clothes into my suitcase. Just wanted to wish everyone a super-early Thanksgiving, I’ll be out of touch.

So, enjoy the reconnecting, rejuvenating recharge with your families, I know I will*!

_______________________________________________
*Well, besides fending off questions from extended family of why I don’t have a boyfriend, why I decided not to go to med. school after all, why I plan on moving across the country, etc and oh…yeah that 24/7 nurse-maid who always tries to flirt unsuccessfully (and very distastefully) with my dad whenever we visit.

7 Things You Don't Know, But I Do

Yikes, I'm so behind on my memes.

'Bout time for another one (I’m also behind in replying to comments for the past 3-4 previous posts!). So I'm jumping around because...uh, this is the shortest one on my Memo of Memes To-do list.

Tag is thanks to Rich! And Mitch! <--exclamations to point out! How they rhyme!

Here goes:

1. I can’t fall asleep until my feet are warm.


2. I believe in destiny. I believe in fighting it so that I can say I found it and not the other way around.


3. I love cartoons and animated movies. I can fall for a guy who isn’t fazed when I choose Over the Hedge for our movie night.


4. If I drink coffee, I like it black. I usually opt for Japanese green tea, preferably Shincha (the first harvest of Sencha) and from Japan. I know, I’m such a tea snob like that.


5. I’m a Chinese elementary school dropout. My speaking fluency is mainly due to growing up on Chinese drama/martial art TV series. My reading ability was further honed by the Chinese subtitles for Japanese and Korean drama series. My writing ability is stuck in the fifth grade. But that was good enough for me to once be a TA for a university-taught Elementary Chinese course...food for thought, huh?


6. I did not wear make-up until I was almost 19. Mascara is too much effort most days. I stick with eyeliner, some eye shadow, and chapstick. I refuse to put on foundation of any sort unless it’s performing on a stage.


7. In high school, I liked to torment tease my mother with proclaiming my intentions to have children by going to a sperm bank. When she was struck speechless, I knew I had struck gold. However, she was able to quickly recover and swiftly warned me I better watch what I say or karma is gonna get me and I’ll have smart-mouthed brats who enjoying torturing their mother.


8. Hell yeah, I got rice, bitch.
   

Who's next in line?

My blog sparring partner, Dan. Of course.

And Lisa, to see what other brilliant randomness she can send my way. Mr. Kimchihead because his stories intrigue me. Mcgee. Even though she already confessed some secrets, I want to see if there are any other ways I can relate to her awesomeness. And because I can never get enough of Susie and her thoughtful musings. Marc, for being so freakin' fantastic and talented. Abba, who already gives me a generous dose of kick-ass attitude with each post...but I want more because damn if I'm just greedy like that. MissMrs: this is karmic return, haha. And good thing, as I just realized I forgot to add your meme to my to-do list on the sidebar! Jason. Words can't express, only laughter. What's next? Zesty, who needs to tell me what LTTP means...Love That Titillating Post? Like, Totally Too Predicatable?!

You can tell meeeeee. *pats halo above head and smiles winningly*

Enthused.

So, there’s a secret bursting to have its story told.

Oh, it drives me crazy, keeps me up late even when I can finally go to sleep at a decent hour (relatively speaking) for the first time in days, and cuts me open, flooding my senses with both fretful apprehension and fulfilling excitement. Each morning, I wake up whimpering to my modestly obnoxious alarm, bemused to find my sheets twisted halfway to the floor (seriously, again?!) and a ginormous knot of hair in the back of my head.

No, I’m not sharing my bed with someone.

But I am excited about this new thing I'm trying.

You see, it's the first time I’m dedicating time to find a place for my own two feet, not someone else’s. I’m not battling to help save an organization from dwindling finances or pursuing recognition for the untold stories of unheard voices. I’m not protesting the continually undercut funds for the language programs at an engineering and athletics-focused school or protecting the naïve mistakes of my residents. I’m not falling for a person unwilling to give me the same in return.

Instead, I’m redirecting that focused, unconditional energy inwards, where it’s needed the most right now.

I’m reining in my restlessness excuses not to grow up, excuses not to pursue what makes me deliriously happy. I’m daring to think that what I want is actually possible…for the sole reason being because I want it. I’m focusing on details that’ll keep me hastily jotting down jumbled thoughts on a yellow legal pad well past 3 AM.

I’m asking myself tough questions. Over and over again, until I admit the answers.

Walking back tonight, I suddenly realized that the darkness of night no longer bothers me because I can look up and smile at the stars. They twinkle back, promising me the unknown delight of another night, a prelude to the new day.

I’m championing my own cause, and the irony is that it’s so I can champion the causes of others.

Conspiring to Ignite

What are you waiting for?

I’m waiting for me to be ready.


No. What you are is AFRAID.

I believe you can have anything you want, you can do everything you put your mind to...and you?

You’re scared shitless.

Oh sure, you say don’t know the direction your life is headed. But behind that safer façade of restlessness, you always knew. You saw the truth of the matter but saved the details for later. So how much longer are you going to spend pondering how you got here?

There's experience, and then there's experiencing.

Things aren't ever quite the way you'd want it to be. You can waste your time looking for answers already found or you can make your move.

You can make it. Now.

Nothing’s going to change you but yourself. Why let things happen? Open your eyes, chase this spark, and make it your light.

I don’t care if you’re angry when I say...

If you continue to wait, you may never be ready.


And who the hell are you?
I’m the start of a new you.

She doesn't only chase boldness. She is boldness.

Reminder to Vote Me!

Sure, I like the number 3 a lot.

It's one of those numbers I'm fascinated by. However, it loses some of its appeal when 3 is for being stuck at 3rd place for all eternity (yes, I'm aware I'm implying eternity to end on Nov. 8th, the last day to vote!). It's just that a gal likes to change it up a little...you know, with your support of course!

So please help me appreciate the number 3 again by getting me to 2nd place. In fact, I can see myself really appreciate being stuck at 3rd place more if in the end I manage to reach 1st place, ha! ;)

Thanks for all the overwhelming support so far!

You people have proved that bloggers totally ROCK.

I Can Pay For Your Shrink

This morning’s inbox brought in a long email plea for help from my kid sis, who's about to turn 16 in a month (holy crap! she’s reached her sweet 16 already?!).

But I’m only a mere 5 years older than her. I mean, who am I to give her advice on Life when I’m still trying to figure out my own!!!

Oh, boy. I sure hope my advice isn't so off the mark or scarring in the way that causes people to seek therapy to recover later on in life.

___________________________

Keeks,

First, I’m SO glad Todd is coming back safe from overseas! Do you know if it’s for sure? Mom and I took his class over the summer right before he was deployed (you were at Northwestern). HE IS AWESOME. You’ll probably see an increase in people attending the sports dance class. I swear, that man has the cutest tush ever…and the way he shakes it puts ME to blush! I can’t say if you’ll feel the exact same connection (near impossible when everyone’s different), but he’s an excellent teacher, to boot. So don’t worry, you’ll love him and you’ll learn a lot.

Oh, AND he’s drop-dead gorgeous, tall, great smile, very toned…and in sleeveless cut-off shirts, he looks more like some hot basketball player than a professional dancer/teacher. Babe, I’m so freakin’ envious!!!

Okay, enough gushing from me. Back to the serious topic at hand.

You’re right, it’s never too late. Take your old jie for example. You know from last weekend that I’ve only just figured out some things. It was a long time coming—what you don’t know is that it’s been an idea in the back of mind all these years. I let it marinate, patiently waiting for the right opportunity. Or perhaps, I was simply waiting for me to be ready. Because something can be right and not the right timing. Don’t feel rushed. Opportunities come and go, yes…but half of those opportunities come because we made damn sure they would.

You know Katherine? It reminds me of her wise advice in regards to splurge-shopping: don’t buy it right away but if you find yourself constantly thinking about it over the next couple of days, then that means you really want it. My decision took four years (and counting!) to come into being. So take it easy and just ride it out.

You and I both know that when Mom says “it’s too expensive,” it’s only half-true. We both did fencing at the Academy and got sent off to summer camps for how many years? Exactly.

You are definitely old enough to make your own decisions (though that doesn’t change the fact that you are indeed the baby of the family still!). HOWEVER, one of the reasons mom is opposed is because she may feel that this is a passing phase or that it should just remain a hobby.

Do you remember how Mom and I fought it out during middle/high school when I wanted to try out for the girls’ basketball team? Afraid that I’d be doomed to never grow out of my tomboy-ness phase, she had final word in this matter (as you know is usually the case, haha), but dad secretly asked me on the side if I did try-outs just for kicks. Which meant that if I really wanted to and proved my capability, Dad would’ve championed my cause (like when I joined the volleyball team). In that instance, it turned out that Mom happened to be right—basketball is a purely recreational thing once I realized that one of the main reasons I play is because of how much I enjoy the pick-up games with the guys.

You never know what’s in store for you, and as you get older you do garner a better idea of what your preferences and dreams are. But see, even that is subject to change.

My advice?

The next time you decide to hash it out with Mom, be more prepared than a boy scout. Show her that this is something you are willing to handle, that you CAN handle. Follow-up on those options! These are questions you should be asking Meagel, or ask the manager at our health club if they’d be willing to take Meagel on as full-time staff, etc. And even if in the end things doesn’t work out the way you want to, keep in touch with her because who knows? Maybe your senior year, timing will be right again and you can pursue this passion with Mom’s approval. Or, like you said, at college.

Sure, it seems a long ways away and that you’re losing a one-time opportunity, BUT this could also be the experience that shows you that this is a passion you want to keep up.

And for the record, Life definitely gives you second chances…

You only need to look for ‘em.

Much love, jie.

(jie = Chinese for older sister)

WARNING: With Strings Attached

They say girls can’t separate love from sex like guys can.

And while I’m sure there are exceptions out there—perhaps with dire consequences—I’m not one such exception. I may love without strings attached, but every action of mine does come with my heart attached.

Sounds morbid. Although actually it just means that everything I do is driven by my feelings.

Which definitely makes for a tricky situation if one’s lover was one’s friend but not one’s boyfriend (but twas an educational experience nonetheless).

Girls are generally unfazed, but it amuses me like no other when some of my guy friends get momentarily thrown off by the quick kiss on the cheek I occasionally give as we hug good-bye, usually spur-of-the moment or if we haven’t seen each in a long time. It’s akin to how when you see children bump their head against a table…if you don’t make an issue out of it, guess what? IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL.

Plus, who doesn’t like a friendly kiss (or two!) on a cheek? It’s so sweet!

You see, I love it when the initial, potentially awkward grey-phase with a guy is over and you both know that the relationship is purely platonic. I get to be greeted with kisses! Strong bear hugs that spin me around!

And have frank conversations such as this:

In response to hearing that I'm taking a Human Sexuality course this semester, Tony, one of my more sexually open-minded male friends (it must have something to do with his Latin blood) asked me when he came down for the deflating BC game aka Tyrod-Taylor-is-not-allowed-to-sprain-his-ankle-EVER (and I don't even like football!) only one question about it:

“So, do you know where the G-spot for men is?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Because Life's Not Bad...

...or at least, generally not as bad as we often think it is.

"Baby was up all night again crying. I'm not 100% sure but I have a feeling she was up crying out of embarrassment over how badly her mom is getting her ass kicked in the polls." - Mrs. Furious

I read that on the Weblog sidebar and could NOT STOP LAUGHING!!!

After checking out her category to see how the sassy Ms. Furious was really faring, I realized that my 200-some votes behind is actually quite marginal in comparison to her 1,000-plus-some votes needed to surpass the leading contestant.

Anyhow.

Thanks for voting, showing such continual support AND for using this as an opportunity to mess around with my mind...

YC:Oh shucks what if I clicked the wrong button??
JK:Hm, if you clicked the wrong button I don't think there's anything to be done...I guess you'll just have to make sure you click the right one for the next 24 hr period? LOLs!
YC:LOL! I was just kiddin', Joanne :)

*whew!*

I’m so freakin’ gullible...and the Internet seems to compound such gullibility.

And just now starting to realize that this whole Weblog Awards thing...?

It's kind of a big deal.

VOTE ME for Best Diarist?

I am in awe*.

Thanks to everyone’s support, Cooper’s** nomination carried me through...to become a 2007 Weblog Awards FINALIST.

Suh-weet!

However, that means the real hardcore voting has now officially begun:

Click HERE to cast your vote!

To give underdogs a fighting chance, individuals are allowed to vote ONCE every day. The voting period extends til Thursday, Nov. 8th, so please help a girl out these next 6 days by voting for yours truly.

And then who knows?!

I might actually have a decent shot at winning this thing!

In fact, I might even feel bold enough by the show of support to hold a no-bounds (eeps!!) “You Q; I’ll A” session to celebrate afterwards…

Was that a bribe in not-so-subtle disguise?

Why, of course. ;)

I mean, did you seriously expect anything LESS devious from a...well, deviant laid-back Buddhist?!

Plus, you ought to realize how firmly I believe in the whole point of learning rules simply to figure out which ones to bend and break.

(JUST KIDDING…um, hi Kevin!)

So have at it!

This is especially targeted at those 80-some feed readers who may have already (or not) de-lurked your lovely, witty selves.

Yes, that was a blatant (albeit sincerely meant!) attempt at cajoling flattery.

Anyhow. Feel free to leave a comment so that I may gush excitedly, give personal thanks, and send IOU's of back massages...

You know, the works.
_____________________________________________________
*and as such, my competitive (good-natured, ‘course!) instinct has kicked into overdrive.
**Cooper made finalist herself: Vote WONDERLAND OR NOT!

The Runaways

My family is my home, and home is my saving grace.

Not a place for me stay, it’s a place for me to COME BACK to.

Clearly it’s quite different from being a castaway, as I’m not being rejected. Instead, I’m the one deciding to reject...to seek new possibilities.

Instead I am the runaway, first.

I remember how back in the 2nd/3rd grade we got to write short stories that were then bound into spiffy, grown-up-looking miniature books. I wrote books with whimsical titles like “Her Unicorn” and “Momma Mia, Poppa Pia!”

But my ultimate favorite was titled “The Runaways.”

Even having since left childhood, the appeal of such an idea has stayed with me. It’s the seed that spawns my incurable restlessness and my keen yearning to experience absolutely everything at once!…my bursting ambition to have it all, just so I know (and can choose for myself) what I don’t need or want.

And for all the words in the world, I can’t explain it.

Especially when I’m on the verge of realizing what I’ve been running away, running towards all my life thus far. I know it, I think I see it, and yet I have no idea what the It actually is!

It’s the fleeting epiphany that haunts me.

A sweet sound of the last breath.

This time last year I finally started admitting to people that I was applying for med school. Though only when I was specifically asked as I never offered that information first. And with each time I uttered the words “pre-med,” the surer I became that it was exactly opposite of what I wanted.

Oh, but I kept saying it still.

Each time growing ever more dissatisfied with myself.

So, this time last year, I started leading a double-life of sorts.

It seemed to others I was pursuing one thing when really I was doing all I could to run in the other direction. Taking the MCATs barely broke a sweat for me because I didn’t care enough to stress. I was fine with my average score (hell, even my writing scored the letter right smack dab in the middle) because my life didn’t depend on it.

It wasn’t the life I wanted anyhow.

Call it the very best-kept of all my secrets from year 2006.

Or so I thought.

This time this year, my mom casually said at the dinner table:

“The thing you wanted to tell us this weekend, is it that you don’t want to go to med. school?”

My dad and little sister jerked up their heads.

I took a deep breath, or two.

My parents' words of 'whatever you want to do, we will support your decision as long as it's your passion' was being put to the test. I know of their unconditional support, but I feared the crushing possibility of their disapproval, of disappointment.

“Yes.”

Letting go of the breath I was holding, I was finally able to take my first...

“Okay. What're you going to do instead?”

...breath of utter relief.

At those words and to the surprise of everyone at the dinner table (including myself), I proceeded to cry puddles into my plate of half-eaten food. Not the pretty kind, mind you. But the unstoppable kind where my nose turns red and my cheeks get all blotchy, where I’m sniffling and hiccuping at alternating intervals…

The kind only my family and a few, close friends have seen.

You see, The Runaway would’ve run away following her heart regardless, but damn! running away is SO MUCH BETTER with the ones you love and respect the most.

It's so much lighter.

This Is What Cold Weather Does To Me

The range extremes of my day-to-day concerns will worry while simultaneously amusing me.

I’ll be contemplating the next city I want to live in. Next moment, I consider how some kind of lonely my bed seems with just me in it.

I’ll be imagining what I might possibly see myself doing in the next couple of years. After re-verifying that those particular possibilities are endless and will be unexpected as per usual, my mind wanders off into a realm of infinite different sorts of possibilities: namely, (un)comfortable spooning positions to sleep in.

I’ll be thinking about what work I need to do first and when’s the best time to complete it, then I’ll be calculating how much sleep I’ll allow myself tonight. And before I know it, I’m yearning for some warm body to wrap his arms around me as I drift off into sleep.

I’ll be sitting in The Lyric (a small, cozy theater downtown complete with a balcony and velvet curtains!) with Kath as we watch the oh-so uplifting Rape of Europa on Halloween night (because we be cool like that)... Then, sheesh! All this talk of the Germans unwittingly reminded me of that certain German/French boy who broke my heart and is currently in Germany.

Gah!

You see what I have to put up with everyday?

I’m going to bed.

Yes, in a threesome...called me, myself, and I.